Let Go the Unjust Memory
by PeechTao
Summary: A series of 4 chapters. taking place in QuiGon's room from his leaving Dooku to taking ObiWan. sad, angry, funny, and Xanatos is involved major. LAST CHAP UP!
1. Prelude

**A/N **Entirely done in Qui-Gon's room, this book shows a few of the pivitol moments in Qui-Gon's life, from becoming a Knight to losing Xanatos to taking Obi-Wan. Very dramatic in some parts, painful in others, humorous at the end.

**Dislcaimor** I do not claim to, nor profess any ownership of starwars of any kind. Sacul, is mine. He can be rented on request and cookies.

**Special Note** this will be a series of about four short chapters, so please don't complain about length!

**Let Go the Unjust Memory**

The first day he moved into the new quarters, he wondered what exactly he should bring with him. It was odd, after all. Moving suddenly from a room he had known almost ten years to an entirely new place all his own. But, he took it in strides, again, wondering what he should bring. He collected random things, as it were. He new the move would come eventually for Jedi Knights were not meant to stay in the quarters of their Master's their whole life, but he had never really expected the day.

Count Dooku had just come up to him and solemnly told him "The Council has arranged for your new quarters now. You will be moving tomorrow."

Was that ever a shocker for him. Of course, Dooku had sprung these sort of surprises on Qui-Gon before, so he half expected something to come from the stony jaw. They were never really close, and formalities and goodbys were pretty much out of the question if not borderline lunacy.

The Padawan packed all of his belongings the next morning. The age old phrase of "hold no attachment or possession" trickling through his mind as he lugged the boxes out. Most of his friends were off somewhere, which meant the moving was left solely to himself. There was a deal of pride to it, however, for he was the first to pass the Jedi Trials. Excluding his dear friend (and secret brother) Ty-Mara that is, but Qui-Gon felt he did not count so much since he was far older then Sacul, Tahl and himself.

He filtered his ways through the halls, a degree of utter pride spread across his lips, even though he was simply moving one wing over. After four or five trips with stacks of boxes, he was beginning to understand why exactly the move was so close by and appreciated it all the more.

Once finely in his room, he had little idea what to do but through a party. He wanted to shout from the Temple spires that he, Qui-Gon Jinn had done the . . . well not exactly impossible, but certainly incredible feet of gaining . . .what exactly? His own room? If outside the Temple he could have owned his own house years ago. Having thrown a wet bucket of chilled ice over his head with that statement the excitement began to ebb away. He was tired. So, leaving the boxes to tend to themselves, he pounced into his new, single, alone, bed.

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r-e-v-i-e-w . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . NOW! 


	2. The Pain of Loss

Chapter 2 -The Pain of Loss-

He at once avoided Mace Windu's chided calls, passing him by with a gruff shoulder before sealing himself in his quarters and, for the first time ever, locked the door.

Qui-Gon caught the sight of the bedroom out of the corner of his eye and knew he could not stand idle any longer. This would finish it. Finish it for good. He pressed off the wall and made for the room door opposite of his own down a narrow hall. Along the way, he grabbed a waste receptacle and drug its clattering form behind him to dispose of those wretched memories in. Every trace of that horrid being would be purged from his existence. Everything.

His anger was raging, but he was beyond caring about propriety or that the other Jedi in the Temple could sense his rent soul. He had his task.

"Qui-Gon?" a voice, Tahl, called through the door. "What's wrong?"

He refused to answer her, more from shame then anything else. He continued in his frenzy, tearing the posters from the walls, destroying the littering doc files, rending the books into pieces, before tossing them all in the receptacle.

Tahl tried the door but found it locked. "Qui-Gon, unlock the door."

The Master would not listen to her pleas. Those terrible memories floating through his mind of his apprentice's defiance. How did he fail him? Qui-Gon always thought he was better then his own Master. How did he then become the worse? The dereliction?

He beat back the pain, ripping that room apart. All those hours spent watching his apprentice fall into sleep, helping arrange the room to his taste, building those concept droids swirling about the room for the Master and Padawan's enjoyment? All of it became rubbish in his hands without even the aid of a lightsaber. His valor had broken, fallen apart and burned in that fire that forged his Padawan's new scar. No. Former Padawan.

"Qui-Gon, I'm coming in." Tahl warned. Hearing still no reply she used the Force to disengage the door lock and walked in. It did not take long to find her dear friend in the quarters. She watched him from the small hall, worry stricken across her eyes.

He was sweat covered, bending and standing in a frenzied attack on anything. He looked at her once, and that struck him still. Qui-Gon shrugged his shoulders, chest heavy with breath and emotion. His blood raced with rage through his furious heart.

"What have I done?" he asked her. "Was I truly so disdainful for him to run? To try and kill me?"

Tahl shook her head, still unaware what had transpired during Qui-Gon and Xanatos's last mission together. "No, no you were perfect. Tell me what has happened."

He sat at the end of the bed, head in his hands. "I changed the mistakes of my Master. I was so intuitive to his whim. Was I weak? Did I give in too easily?"

Tahl sifted though the chaos around to sit beside him. "Qui-Gon, Yoda always complimented you, whether you heard him or not, on how great a master you were."

"Then how did I fail him!" He nearly shouted in grief.

Tahl placed an arm over his back in comfort. "You did nothing wrong. If Xanatos left it was his own will."

Yoda appeared in front of them both, viewing first the raged destruction then his beloved Qui-Gon. "My Padawan, great pain I sensed in you. Come you must. Speak privately, we will."

Qui-Gon nodded partially, standing on unsteady legs to follow the elder out. Tahl watched them go, offering a hopeful prayer tp the health of her friend's mind.

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wow, intense. Review now! 


	3. Living the Life of Solitude

Thanks a bunch for the feedback! you all rock mates! Now here's the interlude:

Chapter 3 -Living the Life of Solitude-

Qui-Gon woke in the early morning. He pulled on a sleep-shirt and rose with a yawn from his room, passing the spare quarters opposite of him. His eyes averted it directly, the way he trained them to do. The door was blacked out with a deep red strike down the center. In a way it was an inward joke for, on his home world, it was the symbol of death and disease. For the door of the former room of his apprentice, the mark was fitting.

Qui-Gon had requested to move to a single quarter. Furnished with little more then a bed, dresser, and living space. The request was denied, however. Yoda wished him to remain in the larger Master room, complete with two bedrooms, a small kitchen, washroom, and living space. This was essentially designed for a Master and Padawan (the latter which Qui-Gon promised to never take again). Yoda held out hope, though, wishing the intelligence and deep connection Qui-Gon held to the Force would be passed to a receptive pupil one day. To counter the idea Qui-Gon had painted the Padawan's bedroom door the particular color it now was.

It was an endless spiral. Jinn would remain far from the Temple for months, once years, at a time to avoid Yoda's constant push for him to see the latest young Jedi. Politely, Qui-Gon would go along with him before choosing no one and disappearing for a few more months.

No one knew the pain it caused to see that empty room, to relive those memories. As he went into the kitchen to fix a small breakfast, (a breakfast he knew would not be there seeing as he never had the need of keeping food around). One of those memories enveloped him–

_Xanatos was sleeping on the couch, sprawled out like a youngling, blanket half falling off him. He was snoring with his mouth gaping wide open. A roll of issues were spread across the floor, drooling out of the waste can. It had been the Padawan's fifteenth birthday, and he was sick as a dog. Unable to fall asleep, Qui-Gon had helped him on one of the couches to watch the holonet. Sometime in the early morning he had finely passed out. _

_The Master had missed two Senatorial debates to be with Xanatos while he became well, but he truly did not mind being absent from the politics. It wasgood enough to simply sit there, watching the icing on his padawan's small cake slowly melt in the heat of the sun shining in the window. He smiled._

Qui-Gon shook off the reverie. He had tried to stop dwelling in the past. It was difficult, especially being around the Temple.

He grabbed a cup of tea and went to go change. Yoda had another set of boys for him to look at and he was better off not being late. Afterwards he was in for another (hopefully) long mission, too the Outer Rim and back if that's what it to keep away.

Xanatos used to enjoy those sorts of missions. They could just fly and fly for days, Qui-Gon recanting stories he and his own Master had been involved in. Xanatos would listen in wonder and amazement.

Qui-Gon again shook his head. He had to let go of the past. Why was it so difficult?

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All right, next chapter is the last! this is going faster than I usually do, but I have other stuff I want to work on, so I want to finish quick. Next chapter will be fuming with fun so be sure not to miss it! 


	4. Acceptance and Paint Scrapings

Well, here is the end of my nice short tale. Hope you like it.

Chapter 4 -Acceptance and Paint Scrapings-

Master Jinn returned to his quarters with a different sort of task on his mind. His friend, Sacul, followed close behind and carrying a set of bags and tools.

"You ready for this?" Sacul asked, smiling at his friend.

Qui-Gon nodded minutely.

"You don't seem positive."

He leaned against the cursed door. "It's difficult. I never thought this day would come."

Sacul nudged him. "Thought or hoped?" He laughed at Qui-Gon's look. "Come on, if it makes you feel better, I'll clean the room out and you can scrape off the door. That is, unless you want death upon Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"No . . . ." Qui-Gon replied, smiling a little. "No, I don't think that will do."

"He's a great apprentice. A little rule-abiding, but well enough. He deserves some place, besides an empty freezer, to sleep."

Qui-Gon smiled. "I guess I really should change that, huh?"

"You think?" Sacul opened Xanatos's old door. "Firing blasters! You really did trash the place!"

Now Qui-Gon tried to laugh, dragging himself inside to help clean it out. Inches of thick dust lay everywhere, disturbing sensitive noses as each object was placed in a waste bag. Sacul opened every window he found, but remained incapable of not sneezing. At length the two fled the room to gain fresh air.

Tahl appeared at the quarter's entrance "What is going on? Started without me have you?"

Sacul nodded. "Yes, but we've saved the dusting to you."

Qui-Gon bit back his snickers as Tahl went in to her work. She returned out just as quickly, chasing Sacul into the kitchen.

Qui-Gon finally let out his laugh and separated the two. "Come , Come, Obi-Wan may be here soon. We must finish before his arrival."

Taking up the task again, they headed back inside. No one truly remarked about the object they carried, rather they spoke of other matters to distract Qui-Gon from his painful thoughts. Without his friends, he wondered if the room would ever have been touched.

_Without Obi-Wan,_ he wondered, _I would still be running from my memories. _

As that task drew to a close, the three worked on scraping away the painted door. That, as it seemed, was the more difficult task for Master Jinn had worked many hard hours to make sure that paint would last forever. In the end it came off with a few mixtures of acids and alcohol. Now, not only was the room dust-covered, but reeked of outlandish smells.

The three could not laugh enough. Tahl raced to her quarters and returned with scented candles, Sacul and Qui-Gon literally broke open all the windows. Well, one broke, but only because the handle was jammed and they were quite desperate.

It was then the three noticed how truly plain the entire quarters were. Most Jedi adorn their rooms to certain tastes, which Qui-Gon definitely could do as colorful as he was. However, after the fate of his apprentice, he never finished or maintain a general upkeep.

"Well, Obi-Wan cannot possibly come to a room like this." Sacul declared.

"This is fine now," Qui-Gon replied, "the smell is nearly gone."

Sacul rolled his eyes. "Not that, you blind neku. Of all things you bring home and collect, the world's of space taken up in my apartment alone from your gifts of outings, and your rooms are plainer then the Healing Quarters!"

Qui-Gon shrugged. "I started once, when I first became a knight, but never really went anywhere from there."

"You have boxes of trinkets in your bedroom. I'm sure they can come out here instead." Tahl pressed. "Come, Sacul, we must decorate!"

Qui-Gon watched the two literally "prance" off. he wondered what in the galaxy had possessed his friends and transformed them into the fairy Jedi of designing. _What was in that paint scrapper? _He thought absently as they arrived with his things. He had to admit, he admired collecting oddities indigenous to certain areas of travel. Tribal masks and pressed leaves of Kubindi, war paint of Kos Ias, (which he happened to use to paint the Padawan room door), colorful force-sensitive stones from various favored planets in the Tagna system, hand crafted pottery from Rutan, the list only continued as they pulled the objects out and stirred his better memories. Each piece meant something divine. Whether a hand stitched doll a young child once fashioned to resemble Yoda, or a precious glass sculpture from Qui-Gon's first mission as a Knight.

In the end, it took longer to refurnish the apartment then to clean the forsaken room. But only because Qui-Gon remembered and had to share what each parcel's sacred meaning was. The apartment was finished, and not a moment too soon. For, as Sacul and Tahl said there goodbys and left him to his solitude, Obi-Wan arrived to move in.

Qui-Gon led him to the freshly cleaned bedroom as the boy's friends helped bring in his personal effects. The Master moved to the living area to let them settle in. He sat at the couch, looking out over the many new changes around. It was as if his entire life had started anew. And it only took the better part of six years, a new apprentice, and the death threats of Xanatos's evil plots to accomplish it.

At length, Obi-Wan wandered out to glance around. He knew Qui-Gon was watching him curiously. The apprentice noted all the peculiar objects from the different systems. They appeared fresh and new, perfectly kept.

"It's a spear head." Qui-Gon spoke up, noting a piece that held Obi-Wan's particular attention. "From Zon V in the Outer Rim." Qui-Gon made a slight laugh. "The natives made me hunt small mammals with it or else they would destroy my ship and leave me stranded. Since I passed, they held a right of passage for me. I believe they were cannibals." He added the last part with a look of intense thought, as if trying to remember clearly.

Obi-Wan smiled, touching the spear head gingerly. "Are all these from your travels?"

Qui-Gon nodded.

The apprentice looked over a few others before heading into the kitchen.

As he did so, the Master sat back in partial relief and exhaustion of the day. What emotions he had been exposed to began to drift into a gent calm, mixed with the scented candles flying wisps of smoke. Until . . . . . .

"Master?"

"Yes, Obi-Wan?"

"Where is all the food?"

Qui-Gon burst into laughter. "I knew I had forgotten something."

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allright, now PLEASE tell me what you thought. P L E A S E 


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